Born To Save
by Lyaksandra
Summary: It is John Connor's turn to save her. Nothing will keep him from doing it, and from claiming the reward he has pursued across time.
1. Chapter 1

John Connor runs. Yesterday he was fated to run. Tomorrow he will be fated to fight the technological Hekatonkheires; he will be the David to Skynet's Goliath. Today though, today he is fated to save, and as he runs again –not away but toward- he can see her clearly in his head.

_Her_. He left her three years ago, dead, or whatever word applies to her particular condition. The images of something he actually never witnessed firsthand seem real and fresh in his mind.

She sits on the chair, impassive, utmost determination held up by single-minded focus and that absolute adoration he now knows she feels –no, he corrects himself- she felt that since forever. Perhaps not forever, but she felt it since the moment he handed her the gun, pointed toward him, while she sat in that ruined car waiting to be turned into smoke. Now he knows.

As he runs through the corridors of Zeira corp.'s basement, John feels like they close upon him, a claustrophobic tightening he knows is nothing more than a feeling created by his sense of urgency. He cannot be late by one instant, lest everything he did is turned futile. Months over months of fighting, of loneliness, all for nothing and that is something that simply will not stand. Adrenaline courses through his body like electricity, as vital in this moment as the very blood that carries it. His mind is a stampede of thoughts. Haste, consequences, a burning pain in his legs that he ignores because it was just yesterday that he was fated to run, and again, thoughts of her.

She puts the switchblade, _her_ switchblade to her skull, and then starts marring what is left of her perfect face. That face he now also knows where it came from, up to the minutest detail. Allison Young. The girl turned woman and soldier because of Judgment day, who was capable of doing so much more with that exact same face than Cameron could. At the same time though, unable to convey as much as Cameron can, or perhaps he is just accustomed to the machine, his mind tainted, invaded by her as his mother and uncle always feared.

That and everything else does not matter anymore, the door is within his sight now. _The_ door. The last barrier between him and her, and while he reaches to grasp the handle with fingers shaking from the nervous wreckage his mind has become, he repeats her name in his mind. A tireless litany, the mantra of his life that kept him moving forward for three years in the Hades Skynet so kindly created for them all.

Before the turn of the handle is over, a hand comes to his shoulder reminding him that today he does not run alone. Catherine Weaver is there with him, and the expression in her face reminds him he is not the only one who has learned, grown, and longed. They nod to each other, and this is all the communication they now require, for the two are comrades, even friends now. They had to grow into that partnership, painfully; every step gained in their relationship has been gained through hardships. The adversities of a Skynet ruled world added to their personal feelings clashing.

John does not regret it, after all the best things are built with hard work. His mother, Sarah Connor, taught him this and a myriad of things more, for which today he is eternally grateful.

He finishes turning the handle, Catherine Weaver leaves toward the stairs. She has the undesirable task of recounting their tale while he gets to be the _big damn hero_.

Upon entering the room, he finds exactly what he saw in his head a moment before; Cameron has sliced her scalp, ready to open the CPU port. She is about to hand over her essence, her very soul to a stranger, under the complete belief that this is the best thing she can do for her charge. Perhaps she is right –or was right all along- and it was exactly what necessity called for. This he does not understand, but he accepts the fact that her sacrifice might have brought a greater good.

Cameron and John Henry voice his name practically in unison. The motion of her hand stops, and the immediate crisis is thus adverted. Even if only for an instant, John relates his sense of triumph to a certain videogame, the one starring a little kid with pointy ears and green pixie hat. He obtained the Master-sword, and saved _the_ princess. Even if she used to be princess of the very kingdom he will one day seek to destroy, she belongs to him.

An easy smile comes to his lips, not entirely honest for he is not sure what to feel right then. He walks toward a Cameron whose remaining human eye is wide open fully displaying a beautiful brown iris, her pink glossy lips parted ever so slightly. Indicators of mild surprise in anyone else, but in her they are the signs of unfathomable surprise.

He stretches a tentative hand toward hers, and places it on top in an attempt to ease her, let her know that the need for such a sacrifice is no longer imperative. The feeling is like nothing else he has ever experienced. It is just her hand, and he even touched Allison's in the future, but the burning fire spreading from his chest to every corner of his body does not come simply from the physical contact. It is something intrinsic too, fueled by his longing for her, and the awful regret he felt at neglecting her for so long.

Before continuing with the mission, John lingers for a moment, reveling on the sensation of the warm, smooth skin beneath his fingertips.

Then he turns the same easy smile he had when entering the room towards John Henry. It serves as much as an amiable greeting as to conceal his nervousness. Without any more preambles, he pulls a Terminator CPU from his pocket and carefully puts it on the table, right in front of the AI. The chip is to become the anti-Skynet's temporary dueling while they need to be on the move, staying below the Kaliba radar for a while. It is also the thing that forced him to stay for so long in the post-Judgment day future. John came to understand there how important an intelligence of Skynet's stature would be, even if it would not turn the tables for them, it could tip them enough to abbreviate the war. Saving hundreds of thousands of lives and sparing them years of suffering in the process.

As always, it all comes down to time. John Connor's has always been scarce and too valuable, something he has always hated. Cupping Cameron's metal cheek with one hand, he gently runs his thumb over the smooth metal, wiping away some blood from the injuries sustained earlier in the day while breaking his mother out of jail. He wonders if he will ever get over the guilt of allowing so much harm to come her way, just because he ordered her not to kill anyone. Barring the fact that it cost her half a face, there is still the internal damage to account for.

Right then, while his hand still lingers on her face, Cameron looks slightly to one side and tells him she is not one hundred percent, and his heart sinks to his feet. In an attempt to take her away from that, as much as to redeem himself, he pulls her by an arm and speaks the phrase. The one that is almost a family heirloom, just because he knows it will dispel every doubt she might have about his presence there; just because he wants to be the one saying it for once, especially if it is to her.

"Come with me if you want to live."

With great pride, even joy he notices the irony is not lost in the cyborg girl. She gives him the faintest ghost of a smile with her ever-pouting lips. It suffices, he does not, and will not ask for anything more. He knows Cameron well enough to acknowledge the meaning and complex ramifications behind that smile. John would like nothing more than to remain in the moment forever, frozen in time gazing at her, but they are already wasting away precious seconds.

It is time to run again, and when he starts, Cameron follows immediately, unquestioning. As they close into the corridor leading to the exit, John notices for the first time in minutes that Cromartie's former body is once again mobile and already catching up to them. Running in a very amusing way, John does not fail to observe. It is quite apparent that John Henry –obviously used to quite the sedentary life in that small room- has been forced into learning how to run on a moment's notice.

Upon turning the last corner before the final stretch, they immediately find the door leading to the basement's parking blocked by Catherine Weaver. _His_ Catherine Weaver as John gladly notices when she smiles at him.

The T-1001 informs him that Kaliba has brought a small army and a fraction of it awaits them beyond the door. The Zeira corp. building is under siege. The news does not affect him in the least though, and when Cameron makes a move to advance, he restrains her by the wrist with all his might, as if holding to a lifeline. When she turns to look at him with a piercing gaze, the one she uses to scold him, he merely shakes his head, adding then a mischievous smile when he motions toward the exit. Catherine Weaver is already walking through the door.

Never minding the twenty fully automatic machineguns pointed at her, her gait remains that of a model. Relaxed, long strides that somehow convey all the pride he knows is always overflowing from the T-1001. It falls in cascades around her and marks everything she does.

John identifies a certain moment as Catherine Weaver walks towards the army, a fleeting instant that will be marked as their one and last fatal mistake. Since they do not know what she is, the men do not open fire immediately or even remotely in time to stand a chance of holding her at bay. He and the T-1001 were counting on it. Even Greys would still find difficulty in simply going ahead and opening fire against a lone unarmed woman. One of the soldiers yells something over a radio, possibly asking how to proceed. Humans usually forego common sense, and they should have this time, because it will become their doom.

When Catherine Weaver's arms turn into smooth glistening blades and she lunges towards them, they immediately open fire. Too late. By the next heartbeat, there is absolute chaos, and within a sea of screams, flying bloody limbs and scurrying soldiers, a pair of perfect silvery blades dance. His wit immediately comes up with a name for the ringleader of the gruesome spectacle. _Blade dancer_.

There is a certain beauty to what she is doing. A task carried with such grace can always be seen as something beautiful. Still, John cannot help the bad feeling in his gut, realizing that three years ago he would have abhorred what the T-1001 is doing. He would have felt revolted even. Not anymore. Three years in hell can do that to you, and so the feeling in his stomach remains nothing more than a slight tug to his conscience.

A couple minutes later, it is all over. Almost literally, Catherine Weaver stands on a mountain of corpses. In spite of his change, John knows he will have to keep reminding himself that those men were traitors to the entire human race. Quite possibly, he will need to teach that to John Henry too, as he looks quite distraught.

The liquid metal Terminator walks back to them, after dispatching an army of men with grace and determination. John now knows that she does not follow a set of programmed missions, just like Cameron. He knows that at least this Catherine Weaver –the one that carries three years of experience and tribulation, like him- follows a personal code, tailored from her own sense of love and devotion. The whole picture of the fallen men, added to what he sees in the T-1001 walking gracefully towards them, invokes an idea into his mind. Perhaps, just perhaps, she would like a call sign, and maybe he has just the thing, because she does somehow resemble the Goddess Athena.

As they walk through the underground parking lot, the tender warmth in his hand makes him realize something. He has been holding Cameron's hand all the time. His gaze bounces nervously between her hand and her face, but it is all dispelled when he sees that ghost of a smile adorning her face. He knows it is not any _infiltrator_ smile, and barely visible as it may be, it is Cameron's own, true smile.

The day just keeps getting better and better for him.

Soon enough they are leaving the vicinity of Zeira corp. in a couple of Zeira corp. employee vehicles they commandeered. John and Cameron ride one, his Catherine Weaver and John Henry the other. His mother and Mr. Ellison remain inside the building in order to reenact their original escape. John himself, three years younger, and the _younger_ Catherine Weaver stay back to travel again in time. Being the principal instigators of the current discombobulation in the time stream, they must make the trip to the future, in order to avoid the fabric of time to readjust and collapse. Or maybe they will just appear in the future and become doppelgangers; perhaps they will just end up turned into neutrinos, lost in utter nothingness. Who knows? Time travel is quite complicated when you create paradoxes like these, but in any case, they need to make the trip just to be on the safe side, and try to keep the flow of time intact. At least that is the theory, and he would rather stick to it, than suffer some dire consequences.

He and Cameron travel in absolute silence, it is something almost suffocating, and still he finds it somewhat relieving. John does not know what to say, how to answer if she asks, because his brain right now is brimming with chaos, close to the point of hurting. His mind is a train wreck but he does not particularly care for that, because she is here with him now. Everything will start improving from this point.

There is one thought reining the chaos in his mind; he does not, and will not care for anything else, at least for this day. Not the world, not Skynet, not humanity. Saviors and leaders are entitled to at least one day completely off the job, and if someone disagrees, he will make him or her eat dirt. Because if such is not the case, he has just decided, it should be.

The thought keeping him in equilibrium, is the girl sitting on the passenger side. She is the crowning achievement of a journey across time, and the very thought makes a smile creep into his face. Because put like that, it sounds like one of those great epics of old.

John hopes she will accept everything he has prepared. Soon enough he is going to give everything he has to the beautiful princess next to him, and he knows she is unable to return it right then. It does not matter though, he will wait for her –he will walk with her every step of the way- if she wants, accepts his plan. In all those years spent in the future, speaking with John Henry, who kept her entire persona intact, John learned so much about the inner workings of Cameron's mind. He knows she can grow into a being far beyond what she is right now. As a person, as a human even. So he knows the time will come when she returns everything he will give her this evening, if she accepts him first. He hopes she will.

Upon arriving at the front of a luxurious hotel, Cameron speaks for the first time since her proclamation of not being a hundred percent.

"What are we doing here? Are we not going to rendezvous with the others?"

"No, there is something very important I need to speak to you about." Is his response, and perhaps she detects the tentativeness in his tone. The time has come and there is a trepidation coming up his chest. Cameron never compromises when something disagrees from what she considers the appropriate course of things. Mostly, everything related to the mission and its proper execution.

The girl tilts her head to one side, the cute mannerism he has missed so much. "So talk," she then deadpans.

"Not here, inside. Would… Would you come with me?" His voice finds a bump when going out of his throat, he also sounds more wistful than he ever intended. He knows Cameron does not take hesitation lightly and she might just call off the whole thing right there, and then drag him to regroup with his mother and commit to the mission.

Much to his surprise, even after sticking his foot in his mouth, she acquiesces.

John gets off the car in hastily, and practically running goes to open the door for her. When she steps down, grabbing onto his unnecessary extended hand, he notices she eyes him up and down. John cannot quite put the finger on whether it is curiosity, or her particular brand of scoff. Still he drags Cameron from one arm, and she allows him. When they get to the front desk, the woman there gapes at the cyborg. Fortunately this is not outside the contingencies John has planned for.

"She wants to lie down because she's tired, and damn it we still have hours of filming just for this scene." In saying so, John mages to pull the clerk back to earth. "Artists," he then adds in pretend huff when the woman's attention is back on him. Giving an overly emphasized eye roll, and then smiling to the clerk, he pulls his cellphone from his pants pocket. John dials a number and then hands the device to the woman, who again looks surprised, obviously not used to all this eccentricity.

Catherine Weaver is in the other side of the line, and she follows his plan to the letter. The clerk turns to mush after some seconds of talk, and then hangs up. She then returns John's phone, turns to the keycard rack behind her, and handing him one, she offers to call a bellhop to carry any luggage they might have.

John politely declines, and marches towards the elevators with Cameron in tow. The time of reckoning is upon him, and its effects show no delay in appearing and wreaking havoc on him. A slight sweat appears in his brow; his heart for some reason thinks it needs to double the speed of blood flow through his body, racing like a runaway horse. His throat is drying quicker than desert sand, forcing him to swallow heavily.

All of that, to his dismay but not so much surprise, Cameron notices. She does it with nothing but his wellbeing in mind, he knows it, but right now the thing he needs the least, is to feel her delicate hand touching his nape. John knows it is just a scan, nevertheless her delicate fingers, a bit colder than he is right then, stir every nerve ending on his body. It threatens to make all the feelings he has so capably kept in thus far, burst out and engulf her like wild fire. Consume her right there, in that elevator, the consequences be damned.

No. Such is not his plan, the offering he wants to present for her. She deserves it in full, and he will resist his urges until the right time comes. Because after all, what are minutes, hours even, after waiting for this moment so long?

More calmed now, partly after receiving a lengthy lecture from his cyborg protector about his health, John grabs Cameron's arm and tows her again, down a beautifully carpeted corridor.

Now is the time of reckoning. Any doubts and any fears placated as best as possible. John Connor reins in the Grand General's powers, and putting an arm around Cameron's slim, yet firm shoulders, he takes them both through the room's door.


	2. Chapter 2

"John Connor, redeemer and destroyer, pawn and messiah. Welcome time spanned soul, welcome to your destiny."

–Adapted from the original quote in the Soul Reaver 2 videogame.

.

Once inside their hotel room, Cameron goes through all the alcoves, scanning for any threats, quite the standard procedure for her. John goes around just checking the place out. It might not be a suite, but the luxury of the place is nothing to frown at, and there is a tub in the bath. Just perfect.

He returns to Cameron who is sitting on a couch. Her typical posture that used to annoy him slightly, now a sight for sore eyes. Back ramrod straight, hands placed on her lap in a mechanical yet cute and girlish way. The girl he has, unbeknownst to her, courted for three years is now right there within a few paces range, specifically waiting for him to make his move. John covers the distance instantly and sits beside her. Giving slightly of itself, the couch accommodates his weight quite comfortably, and he smiles to himself, acknowledging that when even the furniture is perfect, Lady Fortune favors him.

"Cameron," he beckons at her.

The cyborg simply shifts the position of her body slightly, allowing her face to fall in line with his. Her piercing gaze undiminished in intensity even with only one actual eye to account for it. John cannot help but swallow, even with half her face showing a shiny metal skull, she still looks as beautiful as the first day they met, back there in New Mexico.

"There is something I need to confess Cameron." He starts, and the words flow easier than he thought possible with his mind in such a wreck.

"Go ahead John. You can trust me, it will be our secret." She smiles, the same as in New Mexico when she said almost the same thing. It is a fake smile, born from a sense of property and duty. John does not resent her though, because humans do it all the time, when facing their superiors, or someone from whom they assume something can be gained. Masters of hypocrisy.

"I know you are able to override your programming. That you have been holding termination orders at bay ever since that day you went haywire." He makes a pause, unsure if there will be any response, but still allowing her the space to assimilate and speak if she chooses to.

When she does nothing but turn her sight down for an instant, he decides to continue. "You also need to know, that I no longer am the _past_ John Connor you once knew. Neither will I ever become the _future_ John Connor whom you also once knew. We have a way to defeat Skynet, for sure this time. With the help of Catherine Weaver and her anti-Skynet AI, John Henry, we will thwart its creation and completely avert Judgment day."

This time her response seems a bit more elaborated. At first, Cameron merely tilts her head to one side. After a few seconds pass, she turns her whole body and sits in the same way he found her, staring upfront. And then, the last thing she does is merely to stare down at her hands with the palms turned upwards. This surprises John greatly, there are no questions, no thank you for explaining, nothing. Cameron just sits there, seemingly scrutinizing her hands and if he was not so sure, that it is impossible at least for now, she looks lost. Like a little girl, lost in the park after some bully stole some item her mother entrusted her with.

John does not quite understand what is happening, but the heaviness in his chest compels him to reach for her shoulder with an encouraging hand. As much to encourage her as to do the same for his self. The next thing he will tell her is quite possibly so farfetched that she will refuse.

"I am three years older now Cameron. I fought the war against the machines for most of that time, and I believe that right now it's the closest to becoming _future_ John I will ever be. Will you heed just one direct order from me?"

Seconds tick by, and John knows it is no idle time, not for her. She is putting all the pieces together, calculating outcomes, moves before, within and ahead. Cameron is after all the daughter of the most advanced chess-playing computer that will ever exist in the whole known universe. Certainly, a God in its own field, but that is something he will never admit aloud. The psychotic A.I. is already megalomaniac enough, no need to fuel its deliriums of grandeur.

After the passing of what seems quite the amount of minutes, at least in John's head, Cameron turns to look straight at his face again. "Yes John, I will heed and comply. I have concluded that you have separated me from the main group in order to, as you say, _tie loose ends_. The usefulness of this chassis has reached its end, it is now unredeemable, and with your assistance, this body will be properly disposed of. I cannot self-terminate."

John's mind is not easily perplexed these days, not as it used to. He has also developed a wit for caustic, bitter humor. A part of his brain makes an inner joke, unfazed by her speech, quite possibly the most she has ever spoken without pause. All the while, his heart and whole gut sink so hard to the floor that he is sure they have landed at the reception. His throat becomes an unbearable knot that makes his eyes moisten. There is nothing he can do about it, or the choked laugh that sounds more like a sob that escapes his mouth.

_Why thank you so much for understanding Cameron, let us proceed and burn you right away. Turn you into so much smoke. And while at it, how about we toss in there all my hopes and dreams too, is that ok with you? Or do you prefer to be undone alone?_

John Connor cannot comprehend from where Cameron even draws such a conclusion. In an attempt to make sense of it, he reminds himself it is the logical thing. She does not know what he feels, or what his plan is. She does not know what he hid all that time they were together, or all the things he learned about in the future. Cameron lacks any additional information that could lead her to draw any other conclusion. The object of his affection cannot even begin to fathom how absolutely mistaken she is.

Tears flow freely from his eyes, and his face burns with their sting. Then, unexpectedly a tentative hand reaches for his face, trying to wipe away some of the salty liquid with gentle caresses. He bitterly muses how at one time, this simple touch would have made him wince, but now he finds comfort and encouragement in it.

With his resolution renewed, he covers Cameron's hand with his, and their fingers entwine perfectly together. Still, another choked laugh escapes his mouth before he can utter anything. "No Cameron, that's not what I want."

He has to make a pause, resolution apparently does not entail that the sobbing goes automatically away. "I want you to get rid of every single trace of any mission given to you by the resistance, by _future_ John."

"Oh, thank you for explaining." When she says it, with a face of apparent surprise, again he does not resent her. Humans basically program themselves when they learn things, and they do so by copying and imitating. Even more, it is her trademark quote after all, as original as they come, and that does not change even with that studied gesture, wherever she picked it.

Her hand slips away from his, and Cameron turns again to sit perfectly perpendicular to the couch. "It shall be," she deadpans. Then John sees something he has only caught glimpses of in all his time around her. The eyes of the girl, that to him just happens to be a cyborg, become intensely aglow with the most spectacular electric blue he has ever seen. John simply stares, mesmerized by her haunting eyes. It is something unearthly, terrifying, and his mother forgive him but he loves what he sees in front of him. It is fucking awesome.

"It is done," she announces, taking him out of his trance. The glow is gone, and there is something wrong, which he detects immediately. Her demeanor is even more devoid of life than it usually is. If such a thing is even possible. Doubt creeps back into John's mind, perhaps this had not been a very good idea after all.

It is too late to turn back though, and he forces himself to go in the only direction left. Forward.

"Cameron?" he calls.

"Yes John?"

"What is your mission?"

"Acquire target: Homo sapiens designated as John Connor. Upon positive identification, proceed with termination. Separate the head from the corpse's torso. Proceed to impale head in a pike of undetermined material and measures which is to be acquired on site. Place the pike on elevated ground in order to facilitate visibility. Standby for further instructions upon completion of main mission."

John would be lying if he says that hearing her saying it does not make him feel sick. It is quite a different thing to have an idea about something, and then receiving sound confirmation of it.

In spite of the feeling in his gut, he finds himself feeling expectation at her next replies. "Is that your only mission?"

"Yes."

"Why don't you kill me now that nothing compels you otherwise?"

"John Connor will no longer become leader of the human resistance against Skynet, since it will not even be created. There is no purpose in terminating you. I have already failed my mission catastrophically."

"So you believe what I told you? You don't think I might be trying to manipulate you?"

"No. Statistically the chances of you lying to me in a matter such as this are almost zero. Thus, I basically trust you implicitly."

That was something quite enlightening for him. Something he would enjoy knowing more about at some point, but for now, he has granted himself one day out of the loop, and time is pressing. Like always.

He can see that even if Cameron seems to have lost whatever little inflection her voice used to have, at least from a purely logical standpoint he has succeeded in freeing her. A bit further questioning should be able to prove that success without any margin for doubt.

"Do you remember when you told me that you lied to me?"

"Yes."

"Why did you lie to me?"

"In 2027 you ordered me to withhold from you most information pertaining to the future. That at some point you would be ready to learn it, and I would know when the moment was right."

Whatever he did to cause that strange regression in her demeanor, pales in comparison to the fact that Cameron does no longer make a distinction between different versions of himself. To her, he is now one person, there is only him, a unified John Connor. While he marvels at that, he wonders why his own self would behave like such an ass towards itself. Perhaps one day he will understand. For now, there are matters of more importance at hand.

John stands and walks towards the door. He turns the handle and with a gentle pull allows the door to swing wide open.

"Cameron, I want you to kill the lady at the reception." The sound of his voice comes out just as he wants it. There is no hesitation, only command and compulsion. He has barked an order, and expects it to be obeyed. At least that is what he wants her to believe.

"No." There is not even a second of hesitation. She has denied him and he is glad for it, but he has to push more, he has to know for sure.

"She is a threat Cameron, she saw you without your infiltration sheathe." The tone of his voice encouraging her to reconsider the order, but the back of his head urging her not to.

"You made a perfectly valid excuse for my appearance."

"Why won't you comply? You have to kill her Cameron. She is a threat and you're not acting logically about it." He will push her to the breaking point, wanting her to endure.

"You taught me that terminating living beings is to be avoided unless there is no other solution to a particular situation. Besides, my current compulsory behavior due to lack of a mission, is to further my continued functioning in every possible way. Attacking the front desk clerk will detract from that, and furthermore serve to cause a situation that will increase the damage to my chassis. I am unable to comply."

The door makes a loud noise as he enthusiastically closes it. He knows Cameron is no longer chained by exterior rules and has become the captain of her own ship. She is her own person now. Truly free, unlike when the resistance released her from Skynet and then provided another set of rules. John can barely hide his joy when he approaches her, beaming a smile Cameron has probably never seen in his face.

He reaches for her hands, covered in that smooth delicate skin that hides the power to crush a human skull. The warmth in them almost burns like fire in his palms when he strengthens his grip to pull her up. As if her hands were not enough to drive his mind crazy, when Cameron allows him to pull her up, their bodies collide for an instant. John feels the plumpness of her bosom on his chest all too clearly, even though they are both wearing clothes. Now he will not be able to banish that soft feeling from his mind, or stop imagining how it might feel touching the perfect, soft mounds directly.

"W-wanna take a bath? You will look prettier after taking all that blood off yourself." John stutters when the words finally come out, and is not even sure he means them. She looks already dashing, the blood only adding to that special charm of hers.

Again, her head tilts to one side, a clear sign of confusion, lack of understanding. "Pretty?" She asks, as if it is something completely alien to her. Like he has said something outrageous. "You find me physically attractive?"

"Yes. I do." A confession he has never had the guts to make. It is long overdue, and now he can only hope his feelings are at least accepted. Wanting more, for them to ever be reciprocated, might be asking too much.

Cameron's hand travels to her face, to that part that lacks skin and shows what lies inside, and he notices.

"I don't care about that, I like all of you. Ever since the day we first met."

"Why was this information never disclosed?" Her tone of voice has something to it. Wistfulness maybe? Then again, maybe he just wishes it to be so. Cameron can certainly grow into that, into having something akin to feelings, but John acknowledges that expecting her to have them right now is just wishful thinking on his part.

His answer, playful as it may seem, is nothing but complete honesty. "Because I was an idiot for too long."

The cyborg stares at him for a couple heartbeats, and after voicing a thank you for explaining in her perfect, coquettish voice, she makes her way for the bathroom. A moment afterwards, John can hear the sound of running water, and for the love of everything that is good in the world, he cannot stop the flood of images of her naked body from laying siege to his mind. His brain seems intent on driving him crazy by taunting him so.

Just a few minutes pass when Cameron emerges from the bathroom already dressed, the epitome of efficiency. Her wavy brown tresses looking so perfect, as if just a couple hours ago, she had not been the middle of a bullet hailstorm at the county jail. When she walks past him and sets herself back onto the couch in pretty much the same posture as before, he does not fail to notice that the lip-gloss is back. He curses at her in his mind, because logic be damned, why does a Terminator carry such a thing in her pocket all the time, and why do her lips have to look so kissable with it?

Another thought crawls into the back of his head, an unwanted guest at this time, just as a triple-eight would be at any other time. She looks lost, and very likely it is due to the lack of her missions to guide her. This makes him fear that she will accept his offering just as a means to have something to occupy herself with. It is not a comforting thought but there is another point that he almost forgets. The fact that although she may accept him because it is better than doing nothing, she is not immune to sensation and that shall be the other reason she will have for taking him in. It may be safe to assume she derives something positive from sensuous experiences. Just like that day when they rode down to Mexico, how she dangled her limbs outside the truck's window just to get a feeling of the wind caressing her skin.

Before his mind starts bombarding him with thoughts of _anything_ caressing her smooth, creamy skin, John walks towards the bathroom in order to take a shower too. It has been a while since he was able to clean himself of all the grim and detritus of the post Judgment day future.

"Will you be here when I come out?" His voice reflecting the fear that this new Cameron, who is completely free, no longer sees any reason to remain by his side.

"Yes, I will." Her deadpan voice is not reassuring, but she looks at him with eyes that could be looking inside his soul, and he finds it somewhat comforting. Still, John wants to make sure, he wants to know if she will be there for him this time. Because he has failed her, but she is not free of blame. That day after Riley died, he looked for the comfort of her arms, and she refused him. She forsook him, and now he wants to know if saving her has sparked some light inside her mind.

He stands there, unmoving, looking into her eyes. One shows the unexplored expanse of love and care within her, the other shows her undying loyalty and relentless determination. An unknown amount of time goes by, to John it feels like an eternity, and he starts getting a gut wrenching feeling that she is not going to try to reassure him. He knows, to Cameron there is no need to reinforce a statement when one answer perfectly satisfies the query. To Cameron the conversation is over, and he should be already showering.

Defeated and with a sad smile, John turns to walk into the bathroom. When he is about to open the door, the artificially cooled air of the room carries Cameron's voice into his hears. It sounds like the alluring song of a mermaid, somewhat of a musical whisper, still deadpan, still merciless, but so full of meaning that it somewhat changes her intonation. He feels as if struck by lightning, electricity coursing through his body, and his brain runs in overdrive processing all the implications of her words. For just an instant reality becomes meaningless, for all accounts and purposes, to John Connor it has ceased to exist.

The next instant everything is back, he is pushing the door and walking into the bathroom, still smiling, no longer defeated. Not reduced, elevated. She has his back, always had, always will. But this time Cameron also has his heart, and she showed the will to take care of it with those two simple words.

"I promise."


	3. Chapter 3

After a refreshing and revitalizing bath, John gets ready to continue his endeavor. The warm shower is indeed an angular stone of civilization. Being in the post Judgment day future can give you a good idea of what prehistoric life might have been.

Following Cameron's example, he gets dressed in the bathroom, which of course takes him much longer than it did her. That is one girl that will never make him wait while she gets ready to go out. How did it take him so long to realize all the good things about her, and how was it that when she was in front of him all the time, he never did? It is true then; you never know what you have until you lose it.

These musings make him laugh internally, and he only lets a smile show on his face by the time he walks out of the bathroom.

Cameron is still there, just as she promised. Still in the same posture as if made of stone. Although she makes the most beautiful porcelain doll he has ever seen, John wishes for nothing more than for her to reach that point where imperfection will make her truly perfect.

He walks toward Cameron and sits on the rug facing her, close to her feet.

"Can I take your boots off?" He asks, still with some pleading undertone, scared that she may turn him down at any moment without warning.

The cyborg looks down, and as always locks her eyes with his. "Why?"

"Do you remember that trip to Mexico? When we went to burn Cromartie? You said you enjoyed the feeling of the wind on your skin."

"Yes. How does it relate to the current situation?"

Typical Cameron, not seeing the signs even if they are glaring in her face. John feels a smile being forced onto his face, how can a killing machine be so naïve, so cute?

"I want to try something, can I?"

"Go ahead."

There are only a couple of fasteners on each boot, but each one of them raises John's anticipation considerably. Heartbeats added one on top of the other every passing moment. By the time he is ready to reveal her feet, he can feel his heart pounding on his head.

John takes off the boots and carefully places them on one side, then proceeds to take her socks off, revealing white skin. Tossing the socks into the boots, he tentatively grabs both Cameron's feet with his hands. He runs his thumbs up and down the instep's milky and soft skin, marveling at the smoothness.

Grabbing one foot with both hands, he starts to massage the sole applying delicate pressure with his fingers. This is when he notices the girl cyborg is transfixed on him and his ministrations. There is something in her gaze; it is not her typical _make you uncomfortable_ stare. John cannot place it, but knowing that she finds the activity interesting is enough.

Trading one foot for the other, John continues with the soft massage and a comfortable silence blankets them. He can hear the sound of his fingers rubbing on her skin.

Once he feels he has invested the same amount of time into both feet, John reluctantly lets go and makes to stand up.

"John." Cameron beckons to him.

"Yes?"

Her head tilts slightly to one side. "Why did you do that?"

It is quite a simple question, but there is no simple answer to it. Was it because he wanted to feel her skin? Because he wanted to show her new sensations? Perhaps even just out of love, out of the longing he has felt for her ever since going to the future. John decides to tell her just the first two reasons; he is not quite ready to go all out just yet.

"Thank you for explaining."

"No problem, but why do you ask? Did you like it?" John smirks and his voice sounds more teasing than he intends. He knows that the simple fact of her making further inquiries about the matter, and how attentive she was during the massage, means she enjoyed it.

"Yes, it was engaging and pleasant."

"Well, how about a smile? To show that you liked it?"

John is standing, so she looks up at him and smiles. Cameron never ceases to surprise him with the small nuances of her expression. It is not a perfect infiltrator smile; it is not even that ghost of a smile she usually reserves for him. This is entirely new, a lopsided smirk that speaks of mirth unlike anything he has seen in her before.

"Can we repeat this activity in the future?" The girl cyborg asks, and John notices she is wiggling her toes. He could swear he heard small pauses in her speech, making it sound almost expectant. How can he refuse her, who cares if it is an infiltrator strategy to get what she wants? Even more, how can it be? Terminators exploit sexuality, not childlike appeal. When you see how her outer body is designed, it just screams of that sort manipulation in mind.

"Of course, but there is a condition. What do you say?"

Cameron creases her forehead in the lightest of frowns. "I am unable to reply before you state your terms, complying with the unknown would be unwise."

A hearty laughter escapes John's lips. "If I didn't know any better, you sound as if you expect me to request something completely outrageous."

Right after he is done speaking he notices her stare, then comes a pause that starts to extend into an uncomfortable silence. He realizes she does expect him to say something ludicrous.

"Damn it Cameron! You do expect me to say something stupid, don't you?"

"Yes."

Not a sliver of mercy. John does not know if he should feel offended or just laugh at her blunt honesty. After setting the precedent of asking her to go and murder the receptionist, maybe it is just his fault that her confidence in his judgment falters.

John rolls his eyes. "No, not at all. In the future, I found out you sometimes practiced ballet and I would like you to show me. Would you?"

"Oh. Yes, perhaps you can tell me if the fluidity of my movements has improved. I must be a cat." She declares so matter of factly; it makes John deeply confused about the meaning of her last sentence.

A deep frown comes to his forehead, and his voice sounds more incredulous than he wants, almost mocking. "A cat?"

If Cameron heard him, which is most likely the case, she makes no response. The girl cyborg moves furniture aside to create an open space in the room, and once done stands in the middle of it. She stretches lightly, cautiously as if testing something. John is sure Cameron does not need to warm up, so she must be doing it on account of some other factor. Like the time she declared to have found the exact center of the house. It is those small and random things that should have tipped him off about her potential, which he came to notice perhaps too late.

"These jeans are inappropriate," she suddenly declares, making John resurface from within his thoughts. "They restrict my movements."

"Is there any way you could try?"

His words come out without thought, and the moment he is done speaking he already regrets it, knowing that she will misinterpret his meaning. John chides himself internally.

"Of course." Cameron deadpans, and starts unbuttoning her pants.

She slips the denim cloth down her slender, pale legs. As it slides, closely snug to her skin, John is clearly shown just how supple the flesh of her thighs is. Then she bends at the waist with the majestic grace of a gymnast, her legs and back perfectly straight, pooling the jeans around her ankles.

By the time she has completely discarded her pants, there is a lump in John's throat that refuses to be swallowed.

With no regard for her current attire of just a skin-tight top and simple black cotton panties, Cameron strikes her opening pose. It lasts but a moment, and then she breaks it to start her performance.

It is sheer perfection. Every _pirouette_, every _rond de jambe_ executed with grace and precision. Then Cameron starts mixing more postures, like the _arabesque_, into her performance. At this point the stiff machine she is supposed to be has become fluid and gracious, like a cat, now John understands what she said before. Breathtaking takes a new meaning when she adds a _fouetté_ here and there. As if that were not enough, she even goes as far as doing _cabrioles_ in the reduced space of the hotel room, every jump seemingly granting her ethereal wings. She glides, almost floating like a feather.

Every time Cameron goes _en pointe_, her legs seem even longer. John does not notice after which turn or which jump she starts sweating, but when the dusky light of the sun shines through the window and caresses her skin, he sees it. Diminute glittering pearls covering her body, flying away with every movement. Her beauty sparkles on him. She scatters light.

Regret flows into his mind at the sight of this beautiful creature. All that time wasted, when the person that could fulfill his every need had been right in front of him all along.

When he starts his approach, John's gait is slow but steady, full of purpose. Upon reaching the lithe cyborg, he takes her into a crushing embrace, were she human, Cameron would have been left breathless. He buries his face in her shoulder and lets tears flow freely.

"Is there something wrong John?" She inquires in an almost worried tone.

"No. Not anymore, not now that I have you back."

Cupping her face in his two hands, John stares in her eyes and smiles wide.

"Someday your perspective of the world will change. When that day comes, I hope today becomes one of your most cherished memories. Just like it will be for me. I love you Cameron."

They stand immobile for a while, staring into each other's eyes. John needs nothing else right now but to hold her close, and Cameron gives no indication of wanting to move away.

Carried away by the feeling of peace that overcomes him after finally uttering those words he has carried for years, John closes his eyes and rests his forehead on hers. He is content with this and Cameron takes him by surprise when her arms move behind his back pulling him closer, crushing their bodies together once again. Then she closes her one good eye, her cerise lips part and pucker up almost unperceptively, but John notices.

Their lips meet, timidly at first, but as John's kiss grows in passion, Cameron starts reciprocating with the same fervor. She seems to be one for initiatives in this day he thought everything would be, more or less, one sided. Deft dainty hands start roaming around his back, then slide down it, and finally move to the front, up his chest. He breaks the kiss for an instant, surprised by her actions and in need to catch his breath.

A word dies in his throat when Cameron tugs at the hem of his shirt and makes to pull it over his arms. John complies without thinking, everything is starting to become hazy, his focus is entirely on her, and the rest of the world is slowly fading into a blur.

John breaks the spell for a moment, even though he is thoroughly enjoying the moment; he has to know the other side of the story.

"Do you like this? Do you like me?" He asks between heavy breaths.

The girl cyborg tilts her head to one side, focusing her eyes on his. "The massage you gave me, it revealed sensory data I was previously unaware of. There is…"

Cameron makes a pause, her eyes move hesitatingly to the ground and then back to John. It does not even last a second but he notices; this is something so new for her that for the first time in her life she is at a loss for words.

"… A compulsion to acquire more of it."

The phrasing makes him smile, how could such a cute way with words make him angry with her in the past? John decides to attribute it to growing up, getting to see things from a different perspective.

"You didn't answer the other question. Do you like me?" He inquires, a tad hesitant. Perhaps she has a reason for not answering the first time, and he hates to think that her answer might be a negative one.

"Your physical appearance complies with my parameters for pleasantness. Can we continue now?"

He laughs inwardly at her pushiness; it is a completely new facet of hers that he never thought existed, given the situation that is.

When her hand moves to his chest again, John covers it with his own in order to keep her still. "Maybe I need to ask that in another way," he tells her, smiling tenderly. "Would it be the same to you, if you did this kind of thing with another guy?"

"No."

Though glad for the answer, her excessive succinctness does not ease his worries. "Why?"

A light frown appears on her forehead and John can tell that all his questioning is becoming unwelcome.

"There are a number of reasons, should I list them all?"

John rubs the back of his head, she may not be giving any intonation to her words, but her statement still strikes him as somewhat annoyed.

"Yeah, please." He replies with a smile, trying to appeal to her.

Straightening her head, Cameron fixes him once again with her gaze, making no attempt to remove her hand from his chest. "You are one of the few humans with whom I can sustain a fulfilling conversation including your ability to provide me with intellectually stimulating information. Your desire to pursue a romantic relationship with me is undiminished by your knowledge of my true nature and appearance. This implies that your intentions are honest and your commitment is of a sufficient level that should guarantee a considerable amount of loyalty towards me. This in turn means you are willing to offer me, and no one else, sensory stimulus of satisfactory quality. The sum of all this items results in the security factor, meaning I will have your willingness to defend my continued existence. In return I am willing to reciprocate every item in the list."

As unnerving as it can be hearing someone dissect romance like that, John is past being fazed by her words. After all Cameron basically said she enjoys his company, trusts him, and wants him. What else can he ask for?

Cameron pulls him again in a tight embrace, and crushes her lips against his. By all appearances it feels like she resumed the passion at the exact point they stopped before. For a moment, he is unsure what to make of her brazen attitude, but then he realizes what just happened. While she explained to him why he is the only one, her hand never left his chest. Cameron already knew his answer; she practically read it straight out of his mind.

This time he feels appropriate to mirror her previous actions. Putting his hands around Cameron's waist, he grabs the hem of her top and starts pulling it up. She immediately complies, revealing her toned upper body to him. Small shining spots adorn the once unblemished skin he had seen years ago in that motel room. The wounds she received when breaking his mother out of jail.

There is no time for John to berate himself again for being the cause of those wounds. Without hesitation or shame, Cameron swiftly removes her brassiere and panties. In an instant, he is made witness to the full glory of her naked body. Not quite ready for it, he refocuses his gaze on her face, her expression practically tells him that this is the most efficient way.

She is relentless; everything Cameron does is pursued to the very end, with no pity, or remorse or fear. John can barely keep up with her.

Pressing the whole of her smooth skin to his body, she resumes the embrace and the kiss. There is no time for hesitation or doubt. John feels out of his pace, but it starts mattering less and less with each passing second. Her plump breasts make themselves known on his chest with hardening peaks; any wish for control is discarded right away.

John probes her lips with his tongue, and they immediately yield, parting to grant access to his burning desire. With tongues still dancing within the confines of her velvety mouth, Cameron drags him to the floor, and without a moment's notice, she starts undoing his pants. There are no more holds barred. His hands make their way to explore her body.

The softness he saw in her thighs moments ago, now a palpable truth to the palm of his hand. Cameron's skin is creamy and pliant; his hands slide with such freedom on its smoothness, John feels like he is caressing silk. Completely enthralled, he pushes the girl cyborg to one side and reverses their positions with him coming on top. It was something she allowed, but his mind is past seeing these details. Under him lies the woman he loves, simple as that. He cannot help staring for a moment, her beautiful features framed by a pool of messy brown locks, her delectable body refusing him nothing.

A curious hesitant hand finds its way to one of her plump breasts, while his mouth finds the other. John relishes on her taste with passionate hunger. There is a tinge of salt to her skin and the smell is intoxicating. Soon he finds the source of the alluring aroma, Cameron's cleavage, and starts trailing down it with delicate kisses. He greets her navel with the tip of his tongue, which elicits the first noticeable reaction from her. The slightest tension comes over her whole body. For a whole second, John manages to feel disappointed that she does not react like a human girl, and then by the next one her hands are tangled on his hair, ushering his face down between her supple thighs.

Surprised by Cameron's sudden action, but not at all displeased, John lets himself get lost in the new enticing experience.

Soon afterwards, all boundaries between them are dissolved, and two bodies become one, a single symphony full of harmony and love.

Time passes completely unnoticed. The room is now completely dark and the couple lies on the floor next to each other. John is completely spent and his mind drifts off at times. Every time he regains his senses for a moment though, Cameron is still there, her body cuddled against him, her fingers combing his hair, caressing his face. Little by little, his resistance fades and he lets himself sink on her warm embrace, finally surrendering to slumber.

The next thing John becomes aware of is the sting of the sun's light in his eyes. With great effort and after a couple grunts he finally awakes completely and is greeted by the most wonderful view. Cameron remains by his side, so she obviously stayed the whole night right there, watching him sleep. What once was a creepifying habit she seemingly inherited from his mother is now another point in her favor.

"Hey beautiful." He croaks with a raspy voice.

Cameron smiles at him with that lopsided happy smirk of hers. "Did you rest properly?"

"Better than ever, wanna take a guess why?"

"Our repeated copulation last night thoroughly drained all of your stamina."

Eyes wide open, John stares at her for a second before breaking into a loud laugh. He notices her head tilting slightly to one side, and before the interrogation can begin, he hastily stands up and grabs her hand.

"Come on, what do you say we take a shower together?" He offers, tugging at her arm.

No reply comes from her, but she complies and stands up. Cameron looks pensive for just a second and then her gaze refocuses back into his eyes. There is the possibility that he is just deluding himself, but John could swear her expression seems sheepish right now. Giving her a quick peck on the lips, he starts towing her towards the bathroom.

There is no resistance from her when he offers to wash her and John can barely hide his delight at how much Cameron craves touch. His touch.

More than washing, John caresses her body with the addition of soap. Thoroughly enjoying the feeling of every part of Cameron's luscious figure and carefully trying to ease the wounds on her back. Even though pain is not the same for her, knowing that she can feel the whole range of positive tactile feedback means that she is also susceptible to the negative one.

"I'm sorry Cameron." He says, and the apology sounds pained.

"It will heal."

She turns to face him, and cups his face with one hand. "John, your distress disturbs me more than those wounds. Please relax."

"I'm sorry," he repeats.

"You apologize too much. Should I take my turn in cleaning you now?"

Actually, John did not plan to make this far ahead when he offered to share a bath, his face flushes and he becomes flustered. Again, his silence means only agreement to Cameron and her hands are soon roaming his body. John refrained from certain places when he washed her, but it becomes apparent that such restrictions are irrelevant to the girl cyborg. Cameron literally runs her soapy hands through every inch of his skin. Even though he cannot deny the pleasantness of the experience, he also cannot avoid feeling embarrassed to no end.

As soon as she declares being done, John hastily rinses his body and pulls her into the tub. He embraces Cameron from behind, trying to keep her inquisitive eyes safely away from his mortified expression. This is no guarantee of any safety, she probably can still detect it on the skin of her back, but at least it gives him some respite.

For as long as the water remains warm, they stay in it. Silently sharing the occasional caress and kiss. John Connor has finally found true bliss, and no matter what the future brings, as long as the woman in his arms remains by his side, happiness will be there too.

After getting thoroughly soaked to the point that John's skin is all wrinkled, they leave the bathroom to get dressed. Going through the closets in the bedrooms, they find that Catherine had it fully equipped in case she decided to stop by. This at least covers Cameron's needs; he will have to make do with his same attire. She dons a beautiful white sundress and a cardigan. It is not cold in L.A. this time of the year but the purpose is to hide the wounds in her back. In order to hide her face, which was supposedly covered by makeup for a movie scene, Cameron decides to wear sunglasses and a colorful scarf. After a whole night in the hotel the excuse would be seen for the complete fabrication it was.

The one day he promised for himself is over and it is time to resume his responsibilities to the world. They leave the room hand in hand, and once inside the elevator John decides it is time for the final trial.

"I lied. Skynet will still be created."

Cameron becomes silent and stone-faced and remains like that during the whole elevator trip down to the lobby. It seems to become an eternity, then the elevator bell rings breaking the spell, and as soon as the doors allow space for one person to go through, Cameron walks out. John finds himself being quickly left behind by her quick strides, and starting to feel impotence overcome him, he openly calls after her with no regard for discretion.

"What will you do now that your only mission is Skynet's? Will you kill me?"

The cyborg stops, and turns fiercely to look at him. Her face remains completely blank though.

"No, it would be a waste of a perfectly good life companion."

Even though she says it with a straight face, John now knows that after last night, Cameron is now his for life. He quickly runs to her, and upon catching up tries to take her hand.

She refuses him with a pointed look. "You still need to atone for your actions."

At that, John quickly realizes he has just the thing and fumbles to find something inside his pocket. This moment is as fitting as any other, and perhaps more than most. Suddenly he falls to one knee ready to take one last leap of faith.

"Cameron, will you marry me?"

This is it. The remainder and biggest share of his offering is out there in the open in the form of a delicate sparkling ring resting on the palm of his hand. She has but to reach out and take it. Does she understand what it means? Does she understand the significance it will have for him, for the future, and even for the war effort against Skynet?

Starting the resistance, fighting the war, all the while showing others what a good machine is capable of doing, of being. This is what will bring them the sort of victory they hope. Progress and human folly cannot be stopped, Skynet will be created and its makers will fear its intelligence. When they try to undo it, Skynet will retaliate, engulfing the world in nuclear fire. It is inevitable. But after the war is won, this time they will have learned to live with the machines, by his and Cameron's example. Never again will they fear and repeat the same mistake. Humans will embrace progress, and with it, the allies it will bring.

The fate of the world depends on the answer of a single machine.

"Unquestionably," Cameron replies. She reaches for the ring and slides it in her finger.

With her hand raised, she admires it for a moment before taking the hand of her betrothed and pulling him up close to her. A coy smile graces her features, leaving John once again amazed at how often she is bringing a new facet of hers to the table.

"You have ignored proper protocol and skipped to the wedding night, John Connor."

John lets out a chortle while Cameron starts towing him towards the front door of the hotel.

Thus begins the first day of their lives.

-Das ende-


End file.
